There was a mist
this morning
as I drove to this poem
Drove into melancholy
just a tad over the
speed limit
I was in no hurry
Just habit
Driving fast
The hurry up&wait
as I do
Still
Wait
A lot can hide in the fog
Police with radar
Crossing animals
Memories
All are potentially
dangerous
My reflexes are quick
I can avoid
tickets and death
But this humid condition
clouds my vision
Hinders my getting
where I need to go
and I slow slightly
to wipe the dampness
from my cheek
